Life
by TheBestDamnThing96
Summary: This is a short story, I didn't know where else to put it... T for mentions of death


My name is Sara. I am fourteen and a half years old, though it seems more like I'm fifty.

I am going to tell you a story, my story…

Sometimes I stop to think, why me? Why did this happen? We were a happy family, a little low on money but normal and happy none the less.

That all changed when my Mother was diagnoed with disadanomia. Then everything changed. I changed. Suddenly I was there to teach my little sister, not her. Suddenly we couldn't afford rent because of the medical bills.

I was always very sad or worried and I tried to hide it as best as I could. I took note of how other normal kids acted and worked it so I acted the same way. It worked, my friends continued to act the same way they had before. I would sit there and smile and laugh, hiding myself behind a mask.

I put on a happy face around my Mother too, I helped her running around and getting whatever she needed trying to take care of my little sister at the same time.

Every day it was the same dread filling my soul; what if my friends discovered we were poor? Would they still like me? Would they leave me? What would I do then? They were stupid worrie I realize now.

And there were other fears… would we lose our house? Would Mom get sicker? Was Jordan okay?

I was no longer a child, I couldn't not have a carefree moment. There was one thing I did not dread. One time during the day when it was about me. Each night my Father would sing to me in his warm voice. Love Me Tender, Little Surfer Girl, or Daughters.

My Father was my whole world. He was the one who would hold me while I cried at night and rock me to sleep.

Eventually the songs stopped instead my sister got them. I'm sorry to say that I hated her for it. Suddenly she was Daddy's little girl and I was left to fend for myself.

I hated the fact that she was the one holding the attention of the one thing in my life. Now she had our Mother and our Father.

Than I began to write, I began to sing. I did anything that could earn his attention. I joined choir and tried out for all the solos, even if I didn't want them. I started a journalism class when I discovered that's what he had majored in and prayed he'd hold me like he used too and sing me to sleep and call me his little girl. I read what he read, usually books meant for people who were much older than my twelve year old self.

I watched guy movies and even if I hated them told them they were amazing. I was his shadow and he eventually noticed much later.

He didn't sing to me or hug me or kiss me goodnight anymore but he knew I was there and that was good enough for me. And than my Mother and I had a fight. We yelled and screamed and he took me out to a bridge near our house where we looked at the stars like we had done when I was little. For a brief moment I thought that he would hug me and tell me it was okay, instead he said the words every child dreads hearing: Divorce.

Suddenly my world was tossed in the air. My Father left for a trip so he could train for a job, leaving me to pick up the broken pieces of our family. Slowly I became closer to the parent I had left. I began talking to her, hours upon hours we spoke of trival things and big problems. An than, she said the one thing I had only dreamed of hearng… _Things will get better, I'm going to change, I love you Sara, I'm so sorry._

I realized than; I had never known my mother. I had never known her favorite movie or song or that she had been a social worker, what I had wanted to be for five years. Suddenly I had this brand new person, this Mother who actually acted like one not just saying I love you and ordering me around.

I also learned about my mother's side of the family, how much they loved and cared for me even though I thought they despised me because I had a different opinion than their own.

My four Uncles called everyday and checked on us.

My Aunt brought me to her house during the day when she found out I wanted to be a pre-school teacher and I took care of her four year old son, my cousin, Nicholas. She listened to me speak about the world and my view of it and even told me I was smart! Imagine that, me? I had told her that I disagreed with her opinions and she loved me anyways! I was in shock.

When my Dad came home I was happy, I thought maybe it would all workout. He came home, slept in his room with my Mother a week until he came home from work and packed up his things in the car and drove off without looking back. I only saw him on Wednesadays and every other weekend in his new apartment.

Than, tradegy struk my life once more. My best friend, my dog Messie, was diagnosed with cancer. They had to put her down. I remember leaning over her still body, closing her eyes and crying as her heart stopped beating.

I was in shock… Messie, my Messie was gone. The little white cokapoo was dead. I'd never hear her bark or cuddle with her at night after my frequent nightmares. Never would we go into the backyard and throw her orange tennisball while Jordan jumped on the old trampoline. Her soft fur was growing cold as I held onto the one consistent element in my life since I was five.

And than my Dad, the one I'd been waiting for so long to hug me and tell me it was okay was there doing just what I had craved for my entire fourteen years. And for a moment I was blissfully numb, he told me it was okay and she was in a better place. One thing I've always known is dream can't be true, you always wake up. I wish I could have stayed in that moment forever. I wish that I could always feel the way I felt than; safe and happy and hopeful.

I've learned since than that hope is just as silly as animals talking or being able to breathe under water.

This is my story. The story of a young and desperate girl who grew up to quickly and faced the harsh reality of the world by the time she was seven.

But know this: I do not want your sympathy. I want you to understand that you area not alone, even though I am a stranger who might be your neighbor or might be across the world. Even though I will never sing you to sleep or laugh with you or hold hold your hand when the world colapses around you but I can tell you this: I am here for you. I here to listen to your fears and sorrows, to your ups and downs.

I want you to know that I love you. For who you are, for what you do, for the song you sing and for the life you will live. I love you.

Sara Katherine

1:20am Sunday, November 14, 2010


End file.
